The Journey Together
by msulli22
Summary: My version of 7th Year, HPB compliant. Fiends and enemies alike surprise and shock. Unlikely alliances are made and perhaps a romance or two kindled. Meanwhile, Harry, Ron, Hermione and the Order fight the war prepare for the inevitable final battle.
1. On Holidays and Homecomings

"How long do you reckon you have to stay?" Ron asked as he looked at the Dursley homestead as if it would swallow the three of them whole if they entered.

"I dunno," Harry said lamely, "A day? I just want to get in and out and be done with it." He looked at the house with less suspicion than Ron. He had enough painful childhood memories to know exactly how he felt about it. Although Harry felt a surge of hate, it was only momentary. The hate quickly boiled down to determined and resigned dislike. Harry could no longer hate that house and its inhabitants; after the end of his sixth year, he knew what true hate was, and the Dursleys, despite all of the misery they had inflicted on him over the years, did not warrant it.

Hermione interrupted his reflections. "Harry," she chided, "staying in a place for one day is hardly enough to call it a holiday, let alone a home. I would say that you need to be- no, live- here for at least a week."

Harry knew she was right- Dumbledore had explained the concept to him clearly enough in that respect. He was only protected by his mother's sacrifice so long as he could call the house of her only sister, who shared her blood, his home. Going over for an afternoon or a night was hardly what one would consider "going home."

"You've got to be out of your mind, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. The part of Harry that did not want to set foot in that place ever again silently agreed. "Do you remember any of the stories Harry told us about them? Honestly, Hermione, we've _met _them. They are the nastiest muggles I know!"

"They are some of the only muggles you know," Hermione pointed out.

"Well, still. Do you really want to spend a week with them?"

"No. It is not a question of whether I _want _to. We have to, Ron."

Harry, who had stayed silent through this little exchange, interjected, "You two don't have to stay. I do."

"Harry, we said that we would go with you, no matter what happens, and that's what we're going to do," Hermione said gently.

"Yeah, mate. Your idiot relatives aren't going to scare us off," Ron agreed. They all silently finished what Ron left unstated: _Your idiot relatives aren't going to scare us off, because they are likely to be the least of the problems we'll deal with before this is all over._

Sobered by this thought, the three of them stood side-by-side, pretending to contemplate the exterior décor of the house, which was only just visible in the twilight.

Finally, Harry broke the silence. "We'll stay a week." Without another word, he walked up to the door and rang the bell, with Ron and Hermione following closely at his heels.

After a few seconds, he heard someone approaching the door. It was his Aunt Petunia- he could tell by the sound of the footsteps. Sure enough, when the door opened, Petunia Dursley stood before them.

She said nothing for a moment and just stared at the three of them. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Harry's Uncle Vernon shouted from somewhere inside the house, "Petunia, dear, who is it? It isn't a solicitor, is it?" She did not respond. Taking her silence as an answer in the affirmative, Uncle Vernon could be heard clomping heavily to the door to give the would-be solicitor a piece of his mind.

Uncle Vernon appeared in the front hall and, upon seeing Harry, hesitated. Dismay passed over his face, but only briefly. Anger quickly took its place. "What are you doing here, boy?" He demanded.

Harry said nothing, knowing that Uncle Vernon would continue the conversation well enough on his own.

Overcome by his temper, Vernon nevertheless sputtered on, "And, what do you mean by bringing these… freaks near my home? Get out!"

"Sir," Hermione said icily, "We are not freaks. I am a witch, and he," she jerked her head toward Ron, "is a wizard."

"Do not speak those words near my house!" Vernon bellowed.

Hermione said nothing but made a show of sliding her wand halfway out of her sleeve. Vernon stared at it and said slowly, "You can't use that. Not until you're done with that infernal school of yours."

Dudley, at this point, curious about the all the commotion, had made his way to the door. However, upon seeing not the usual one, but three wand-bearing people, stopped dead in his tracks. Ron stared him down and let his wand slide into view, which sent Dudley scurrying back into the house.

Seeing both Ron and Hermione with their wands visible made Vernon more aggravated with them and less certain of himself. His voice wavering a bit, he said, "Now, I know you can't do… that thing."

"Magic?" Ron suggested brightly.

Vernon stared at him sharply, and Petunia drew in her breath audibly. "Yes," Vernon said, his voice hard, "that. You lot still have one more year. Seven years, wasn't it?" He asked. Then, answering his own question, he continued, "It was, and it's only been six. So, put those _things _away."

"Actually," Hermione, "You merely have to have turned seventeen in order to use _magic_," Vernon and Petunia both winced, "outside of school. So, although Harry can't use it yet, we can."

"And will," Ron put in. Hermione threw him a look, so he hastily added, "If we have to."

Vernon and Petunia looked absolutely terrified, and Harry thought he heard a squeak from wherever Dudley was eavesdropping from.

After nearly a minute of deep silence, during which Ron was grinning stupidly and Hermione wore a small triumphant smile, Harry said quietly, "So, we'll come on in, then."

This reminded Uncle Vernon to be angry as well as terrified, and his face went an even darker shade of red. He did not stand aside, but he still was wary of the tips of the wands he could see.

"She's not joking around. See?" Ron fully took out his wand, at which point Petunia let out a short scream and Vernon looked like he would blow steam out his ears if it were possible (actually, reflected Harry, it was possible, at least in the magical world). Ron said firmly, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" and pointed his wand at Vernon's tie. The tip of it crept up and floated irritatingly in front of Vernon's face.

Vernon's eyes grew wide, and he attempted to press the thin red fabric back down.

"The neighbors, dear, the neighbors!" Petunia cried.

After a split second of consideration, Vernon roared, "Fine! Get in! Get in!"

"Don't mind if I do," Harry muttered under his breath as he stalked past his aunt and uncle.

Ron and Hermione both took a moment to discreetly point their wands at their belongings and say, "_Locomotor trunks_!"

As soon as everyone and everything had made their way through the door, Vernon slammed it shut and raged, "Get upstairs! Now! And, you-," he glared at Ron, "-put my tie back where it belongs!" Vernon was still swatting ineffectively at his tie, which had begun to whack him in the face.

"Oh. Right," Ron gave an absent wave of the want, and Uncle Vernon's tie fell back into place.

"This way," Harry said, leading the way to the stairs. He stopped at the foot of staircase, though, and turned around, as a thought dawned on him. "Aunt Petunia, we'll need to use the guest bedroom."

Vernon vehemently interjected, "You'll not be using that. I don't want you spread out and in the way. If your… friends… have decided to stay in my home, they will sleep where I tell them to, and that is in your room! I don't want to see any of you just wandering about the house! Do you understand?"

Harry glanced meaningfully at Hermione and then said in a just barely polite tone, "You don't want Hermione's parents ringing you up because you wouldn't give her her own room, do you? I don't think that they would take kindly to the idea that you forced their daughter to sleep in the same, and might I add, small, room as two teenage boys."

Petunia, still obviously upset, stepped in and said blankly, "Oh. Of course," and left it at that.

Vernon, unwilling to contradict his wife on this matter, just said, "Keep it clean."

Hermione glowered at him, but merely said, "I don't think that will be a problem," as she casually motioned with her wand.

"You-," Vernon began but decided to keep the rest of his thought to himself when Ron motioned a little more significantly with _his_ wand.

"Let's go," Harry said, already sick of dealing with the dynamics of the household. He led Hermione and Ron up the stairs and made his way to his own small room with the cat-flap in the door. "Hermione, your room is right next door. You might want to do a _Scourgify_ on the bedding. Aunt Marge let that horrible dog of hers all over the place. Actually, do the whole room just to be safe."

With a smile, Hermione made her way down the hall while Ron and Harry uneasily poked their heads in the doorway of Harry's room as if they expected it to be as terrible as the people who inhabited the house it was in. It was in truth not as terrible, but that was mostly on account of the fact that the previously mentioned people were not in it. The room was gloomy at best, and the uneven floorboards and ever-so-slightly peeling walls just added to the effect. It appeared that no one had been in it in about a year, which was probably not so far from the truth, Harry realized.

"Well, it's only for a week," Ron said helpfully.

"Yeah. Right," Harry lamented. He then brightened a bit, "Well, at least I've got you two this time 'round."

Ron moved in the two trunks, which took up a rather large amount of floor space in the already tight room.

Two minutes later, Hermione walked in and found the two boys floating the trunks back and forth across the room in an attempt to find space for another bed.

"Really," she admonished, "You two must have paid enough attention in Charms to learn a simple shrinking charm." With that, she and wearily performed a _Reducio_ charm on the trunks and shrank them down to the size of shoe boxes.

Both boys mumbled some excuses and thanks and went about moving Harry's bed around to make room for Ron's bed that was eventually transfigured (after several attempts by Ron and Harry and one by Hermione) out of the writing desk from the spare room and a sofa cushion for the mattress.

After a few minor rearrangements with the aid of two wands, Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves sitting on the bed in a pensive solemnity.

Finally, Harry surfaced from his own meditation and said cynically, "Welcome home."


	2. On Exploding Tomatoes

**Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own the Harry Potter series or any of the characters therein. I am not making any profit off of this, either.**

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"Get out of my kitchen!"

Harry and Ron's hands flew to their wands even before their eyes opened. Harry jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs with his wand drawn, and Ron was close behind him.

"I thought you said they couldn't get to you here," Ron whispered.

Harry shushed him urgently and crept down the front hall toward the kitchen as he listened to his Aunt Petunia scream at what- or whoever's presence frightened her. She had ceased to be understandable some time ago, and Harry hadn't the slightest clue as to what was happening.

"On the count of three," Harry muttered, gripping his wand even tighter. "One… Two… Hold on." Harry spotted a reflection of the kitchen in the mirror. In it, his Aunt Petunia was waving a spatula and an affronted and thoroughly unimpressed Hermione.

Harry nudged Ron gestured toward the mirror. Ron just rolled his eyes and said dully, "I suppose we should go break it up, then."

However, before they could take another step toward the kitchen, an unholy disturbance could be heard coming from the staircase. Uncle Vernon pounded down the stairs, his shouts as unintelligible as his wife's. Dudley followed him, making an equally deafening appearance.

Vernon rounded on Harry and Ron and roared, "What did you do?!"

"We didn't do anything!" Harry replied, his voice slightly on edge.

"Petunia is there screaming, and you two delinquents are standing out here with those _things_ out! Don't expect me to believe that you haven't done anything!"

Harry shot back, "We came down when we heard her shrieking, just like you. And, these _things _could in fact come in useful and save your life if something were actually wrong!"

"Something _is_ wrong! That girl has obviously done something to your Aunt. If you want to be useful, use those _things_ on that friend of yours!"

"Hermione hasn't done a thing!"

"Well, how would you know if you just came down?" Uncle Vernon challenged.

"Because I know her, and I know you lot." Harry countered.

Meanwhile, Dudley, trying to be heard over the commotion, was howling, "What's she doing to Mum? What's she doing to Mum?"

"Will you shut up?" snapped Ron.

Dudley paused only for a moment before he shouted, "You think you're so important with that stick of yours. Just because you can do weird stuff doesn't mean you can just make me do things!" Dudley's face turned redder, like his father, as he attempted to string a coherent sentence together.

"Really? You want to test that?" Ron threatened.

Dudley faltered, but he was too heated to think much, "You wouldn't be so tough without that. You don't fight fair."

"Since when do you?" Ron yelled back, "I've heard enough from Harry to know that you've never fought a 'fair fight' in your life!"

Ignoring this, Dudley continued on his rant, "You just hide behind that _thing_ so you won't have to face anyone on even ground. You know what? That sounds like a coward to me."

"A coward?!" shouted Ron. "Do you even know how stupid that sounds? I've spent the last year of my life fighting and getting ready to fight even more with people who wouldn't think twice about killing you, me, or their own mother! I doubt _your_ mother has ever let go of your hand for you to cross the street alone!"

In the kitchen, Petunia was screeching, "How dare you come into my kitchen and use my things? Isn't it enough that I've let you stay here and given you a room? Do you have to contaminate the whole house with your presence?"

Hermione didn't have the chance to reply even if she had wanted to, so she stood there and watched Petunia's face become whiter and whiter from rage. It was quite comical actually, thought Hermione despite herself- put the three Dursleys next to each other when they were angry and you've got two exploding tomatoes and a ghost in hysterics. Although, Hermione thought, ghosts might take offense to that. And, from the looks of Dudley and Vernon, the tomatoes would, too.

The shouting continued for several minutes. It was cut short, however, by a very loud popping noise.

A figure materialized in the hall behind Harry, Ron, Vernon, and Dudley. There was a good amount of even louder yelling, but _Expelliarmus_, _Impedimenta, _and _Petrificus Totalus_ almost instanteously flew across the room and connected with the target at nearly the same time.

The Dursleys were too shocked, or perhaps scandalized, to speak. Harry was perfectly happy to leave them that way as he cautiously approached the now wandless, unconscious, and petrified body that had toppled to the floor.

"Who is it, Harry?" Hermione asked apprehensively, making her way out of the kitchen to join the others in the hall.

"Mundungus."

Ron, interrogating no one in particular, demanded, "What the hell is he doing, just apparating into someone's house like that? He's lucky we didn't do worse. Hey! Maybe he's a Death Eater. I mean, he is a criminal type and all," He added eagerly.

"Ron!" Hermione groaned, "Mundungus' business dealings might be dubious at best and unlawful at worst, and he might be a little inexperienced when it comes to the etiquette of apparition, but he's not a Death Eater."

"That's what you said about Snape, and look what happened there!" Ron burst out. He regretted it immediately when he saw Hermione's face.

All three of them fell into an uncomfortable silence, each trying to once again reconcile themselves with an event that they could hardly come to terms with after a mere three weeks in the middle of a war.

Hermione sighed out as much of the grief as she could manage for the moment and murmured, "I've already said that I was wrong, all right? I didn't do anything but hold a faulty belief."

Ron said nothing in response, Harry hung his head a little bit, and Hermione looked thoroughly depressed. The Dursleys did not dare move, not with those _things_ on the offensive.

All of the sudden, there was a frightfully loud _dingdong_ that reverberated throughout the house. Ron, Harry, and Hermione instinctively raised their wands, but had nothing to point them at.

"What in the name of Merlin's beard is going on in there? Open up, I say, open up!" A voice, accompanied by numerous thumps, shouted from outside.

"Merlin's beard?" Harry asked, startled by the magical allusion that had come from his Aunt and Uncle's front step. The voice suddenly registered in Harry's head, "Mrs. Figg," he stated informatively.

Harry, stepping over Mundungus' rigid form, quickly unlocked the door and had only pulled it open a fraction when it burst open to reveal very agitated Mrs. Figg.

She opened her mouth to speak but then spied Mundungus on the floor. She looked from him to the oddly colored and obviously distressed Dursleys to Harry, Ron, and Hermione with their wands drawn. "What on earth happened here?" She asked.

"Mundungus just decided to apparate into the front hall with absolutely no warning is what happened," Harry said, now slightly irritated at the crooked and unwelcome wizard.

"He was supposed to meet me outside! You half-witted, hopeless wart!" Mrs. Figg yelled at the still-unconscious and petrified Mundungus. She stood there fuming and looking like she wanted nothing more than to give Mundungus a good kick.

Hermione, taking advantage of the momentary silence, gave her wand a deft flick and under her breath muttered, "_Enervate!_"

"Wha-," Mundungus stirred, "What's goin' on? What's happenin'?" He began to sit up, but thought better of it, "Oh, me 'ead. It hurts like an angry horntail."

Mrs. Figg took this as an opportunity to whack him over the head with her oversized purse. "What were you thinking? _Were _you thinking? Oh, the Order will have your head for this!" Harry looked nervously at the Dursleys, but they appeared to be too stunned by all of this to care about what this Order might be. Secrecy was more important now than ever.

"First the dementors, and now you have everyone jumping out of their skin by apparating into someone's home unannounced!" Mrs. Figg continued fiercely, "You even managed to render yourself completely useless while doing so! Did you even bother to take a peek in the window to see what was going on? There could have been a pack of Deatheaters in here, and you and everyone else here would be dead now, just because you couldn't be bothered to take your assignment seriously! You're supposed to be keeping watch, not getting yourself attacked for no reason!"

Mundungus, still somewhat dazed, protested feebly, "I didn't get myself attacked!"

"You got hit by three spells within two seconds of apparating in," Ron pointed out, "I'd say that qualifies as getting attacked."

This seemed to snap Uncle Vernon out of his stupor, "There will be no more attacking anyone with _those_," he looked pointedly at Harry's wand, "Not in my house! Now, I want you all out of here now! I will have no more m- m-,"

"Magic," Ron finished for him.

Vernon glowered at the young redhead but took the offered word, "Yes. Of that. Not in my house! Everyone out!"

Petunia, being the only member of the Dursley family who had anything at all in the way of observational skills, stared at Mrs. Figg, "Arabella? What are you…?"

"Ah…," Mrs. Figg laughed nervously, "I'm…," She looked at Harry for help.

"Are you one of _them_?" Dudley asked timidly, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"Well, of sorts," Mrs. Figg said at the same time as Harry said, "Yes." Mrs. Figg looked at him, surprised, but just shrugged and mustered a glare to send at Mr. Dursley.

Uncle Vernon was slightly unnerved, but he pressed on, "Do you mean to tell me that you have been living across the street for all these years and that you're a- a- a freak?" So much for civility, Harry thought.

Mrs. Figg scowled, "Yes. I have been your neighbor for sixteen years and have watched you lot abuse Harry here whenever you had the opportunity. You, sir, have never seen me use magic on anything… or anyone, for that matter, and I assure you that you do not want to. So, I suggest that you keep quiet."

Uncle Vernon's eyes bulged, but he appeared willing to take Mrs. Figg's advice for the time being. Harry caught a glimpse of the small smile of satisfaction that briefly transformed the old woman's face.

Almost as soon as he saw it, though, it was gone and replaced by a much sterner expression. Mrs. Figg pursed her lips and turned to face Harry, "So, what happened here… _before_ this fool materialized?" She gazed piercingly at Mundungus, who temporarily decided against any further efforts to pick himself up off of the floor.

Harry hesitated. "Uh…," his eyes shifted a bit, searching for an answer, "Well …, there was a lot of yelling."

"Yes," Mrs. Figg frowned, "I, along with half the neighborhood is quite aware of that."

At the mention of the neighbors, Petunia gave a whimper, but said nothing. Dudley, forgetting Mrs. Figg's warning from only seconds before, blurt out, "_She_ did something to Mum!"

Hermione shot back, "I did not! I didn't even have my wand out!"

"Well, those two did!" Dudley jerked his head toward Harry and Ron.

"Yeah, well, your mum was screaming like a madwoman!" Ron snapped, his face as red as his hair.

"So your solution is to use those on her?" demanded Dudley.

"No," Harry said wearily, "We thought that something serious might be wrong. Getting woken up out of a dead sleep by someone screeching at the top of their lungs tends suggest that sort of thing."

Aunt Petunia took this as an opportunity to cautiously enter the conversation, "It was serious… in a way… a serious breach of boundaries was what it was."

"I was cooking breakfast," Hermione said flatly.

"In _my _kitchen," Petunia pointed out.

Hermione admitted, "Well, yes." Then she added quickly, "But I just thought it would be nice if I helped out a bit and made everyone a nice meal."

Aunt Petunia just frowned.

Harry, knowing full well how his Uncle would react, said smugly, "See? I told you she wasn't doing anything."

"Boy," Vernon growled, "I told you that I wanted you and your friends in your room and nowhere else in this house. That includes the kitchen."

"Well, excuse me for trying to be helpful," Hermione mumbled.

"We're not trying to take over the house!" Harry responded to his Uncle, "We're willing to stay out of your way and stay in my room. We do need to eat, though. And, this year, I, for one, am not going to put up with the rubbish that you've always shoved through that stupid hole in my door," Harry turned to his aunt and continued, "So, either you can make us all something decent to eat, or you can let us come down to the kitchen a few times a day."

Petunia was so livid that she could not find any words to express herself. But, unlike her husband and son would do, she chose to stay silent in this instance.

"I'll take that as 'we can just go on and find our own food,' then," said Harry, although he knew that his aunt had not yet made up her mind as to which was the lesser of the two evils. He added, "I don't particularly like the stuff that you make for Dudley's diet, anyway, so I think this will work out quite well. And, while we're on the subject, I don't think that diet is accomplishing much." He stared pointedly at Dudley's round middle. Dudley turned even redder.

Mrs. Figg cleared her throat, "Well, you're always welcome at my home for a meal. Don't come round for breakfast too early, mind you. I'm not much of a morning person."

At this point, thinking that the worse was over, Mundungus Fletcher made a move to stand up properly. Seeing this, Mrs. Figg and Uncle Vernon both started in on him.

"You! You come with me right now!" Mrs. Figg scolded, "We're going to headquarters! Oh, Minerva will have something to say to you! And, wait until Molly gets her hands on you!"

Meanwhile, Uncle Vernon bellowed, "I don't know where you came from, and I don't want to know. But, don't you ever come near my house again, not by the normal way or by- by- appearing out of thin air."

Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes, while Ron seemed like he wanted to jump into the squabble and take Dudley in with him. Before it could get too out of hand, though, Hermione gave her wand an abrupt flick and declared, "_Silencio!_"

Mrs. Figg and Vernon appeared to continue yelling for a few moments, but they made no sound. Finally, confused, they closed their mouths dumbly. Dudley and Petunia looked absolutely horrified, while Harry appeared to be extremely grateful for Hermione's intervention.

With an air of confidence about him, Harry took a breath and stated authoritatively, "Enough already. Mrs. Figg, thank you for your concern and the invitation for some meals; I'm sure we will take you up on it."

Harry looked at Mundungus next, and his voice took on a slightly exasperated quality, "Mundungus, it's not a good idea to just apparate into someone's home when you have no idea what's going on. Take a look in the window or something and get some backup next time around. Also, and I'm sure you've been told this before, it's not very polite."

He now turned on his relatives, "Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, I'm here with my friends, and there's nothing you can do about it. If you can't be civil, just do us all a favor and ignore us. We'll attempt to stay out of your way, but we will be using the kitchen from time to time, because we do have to eat, and you've never been dependable when it comes to giving me sustenance." Harry spent another moment giving his Uncle the most formidable glare he could contrive. He then said quietly, "Hermione, I think you can undo it, now."

Hermione waved her wand slightly. Clearing her throat audibly, Mrs. Figg seemed to be a little insulted at being jinxed, but none the worse for wear. Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to say something but uncertain of his ability to make sound, closed it again.

"Right. Well, we'll be on our way, then," Mrs. Figg said, pushing Mundungus out the door, "And, don't you dare apparate away from me!" She warned. She looked back at Harry and offered, "Come find me if you need anything or just want something to eat, remember. And, don't let them push you around too much." She gazed piercingly at the Dursley family.

"Thank you," Hermione said warmly in Harry's place, trying to make up for jinxing the squib, "I'm sorry for that. It's just that, well, there's been an awful lot of yelling today."

Mrs. Figg replied brusquely, but sincerely, "It's quite all right, dear. I probably would have done the same. Well, goodbye now." And, giving Mundungus one final prod, she shut the door behind her.

The Dursleys stared stupidly at the door, and then, in their contrasting shades of red and white, looked at the witch and the two wizards warily.

"Well, then," Hermione sighed. She stowed her wand back in her sleeve as she led the way back to the kitchen and said as if nothing had happened, "Who wants breakfast?"


End file.
